AN: Obviously, this is set before the events of the actual show, what with Jesse still at school. However, some things stay the same – Skyler is pregnant with Holly at this point, and Walt will soon discover his diagnosis. Or, put more simply, everything's the same (minus the meth manufacturing), but Jesse's at school and I'm just gonna say that Walter Jr. is a few years younger.

Jesse had adjusted to his new Friday routine; spending extra time in school after hours. He couldn't remember when this was no longer such a big deal – because it had been at first – but now, as he walked down the corridor towards Mr White's class, he found that his mind was more preoccupied with whether he remembered to bring his chemistry book, rather than how much he wanted to be walking home right now.

He searched in his bag as he walked and smiled as his fingers bumped against a familiar book-spine that was way too thick to be anything other than a chemistry textbook. At least he'd avoid a lecture on how to remember to bring the most essential things to school – which was what happened during his and Mr White's first after-school lesson a couple of weeks ago.

The truth was, Jesse had become fond of these after-school lessons. He could almost cringe every time he admitted it (and it did take a lot for him to make this confession in the first place). He couldn't quite place why he enjoyed staying behind instead of leaving on time and starting his weekend, but he couldn't deny himself the smile forming on his face as he approached the chemistry classroom and peeped around the doorframe to see if his teacher was inside.

Mr White wasn't so bad, after all. He wasn't hated around the school. In fact, many students liked the man because he was, as they described him, a "pushover", and they were sure to get away with uncompleted work and escape the burden of lunchtime detentions for talking back. The science nerds loved him because, well, he knew what he was talking about. He was the biggest chemistry whizz Jesse had ever met, but then again, he couldn't really say he'd ever hunted down any science fans to hang out with anyway.

Jesse wasn't keen on the man because he was a "pushover". Far from it, really. Mr White rarely let Jesse get away with anything, which was why he was attending these extra classes in the first place. He did admire the way he spoke about chemistry as though it was the only thing in the world that mattered – heh, mattered – even though he still couldn't get his head round atoms and electrons and those other round things, or why those chemicals when mixed together caused that kind of reaction, and whatever other shit he was expected to learn. He couldn't do it, but he didn't mind watching Mr White do it instead. Usually, he'd spend chemistry lessons doodling on the worksheets in front of him or tapping his feet against the floor as a silent karaoke session played out in his head. But as of recently, he'd actually pay attention to what Mr White was saying without feeling as though he was about to fall asleep. Even if he couldn't quite get what the man was saying, he could appreciate the passion in his voice.

And wow, that was such a gay thing to think.

Shit. Was he crushing on Mr White?!

This newfound revelation – no, possibility, because Jesse wasn't prepared to accept this as the truth just yet – caused butterflies to stir in his stomach as he entered the familiar classroom and sat at his usual desk. His teacher, thank god, wasn't in the room, so he had time to calm himself down and desperately will away the smudge of pink that had crept across his cheeks. Blushing. Jesus. That's all he needed. It totally didn't help the argument that he wasn't crushing on his way-old chemistry teacher who, by the way, just happened to be a dude.

When Mr White entered the classroom, Jesse had somehow managed to chill himself out, and had sunk into the back of his chair, eyes closed. The student didn't even notice his teacher arriving and was startled to hear someone call out his name. His eyes shot open and upon seeing Mr White, he sat up straight, faster than lightning.

"Oh, hey, Mr White. I was just…" He laughed pathetically, feeling embarrassed. "I wasn't sleeping."

"You had me for a second there, Jesse." Mr White smiled pleasantly and took a sip from his mug.

Jesse thought that maybe Mr White would complain about him lounging around, rather than setting up his work, but was glad that his teacher seemed in a good mood today. But he didn't delay any further in getting out his textbook and pen, and watched as Mr White cleaned the previous lesson from the blackboard.

"Yo, so like, what're we doing today?" Jesse just felt the need to talk and settled for school-related things, because that's all they knew, all they shared. It would be strange to talk about anything else, any other everyday thing, right? Like, how are you? Teach many pricks today, Mr White?

"We're picking up where we left off last week." The older man paused. "You've read over your work since last Friday, right?"

"Uh, yeah. Totally. I'm good for that." He quickly found the pages they were studying from last time and began to skim over the words, and maybe Mr White knew what he was doing, because he seemed to take more time than necessary to clean the board and find a new piece of chalk to work with. The gesture, whether accidental or on purpose, was much appreciated, giving Jesse time to at least remember what the topic was they were going to look at today.

Like the Friday before, Mr White stood at the front of the room as though he was teaching a full class. He spoke more quietly, however, and seemed to change his vocabulary to suit Jesse. Anybody else may have felt patronised, but Jesse really did prefer it when he used less 'big words', and made the stringing together of the explanation more simple. The actual names of the chemicals and elements and shit were complicated enough, so there really was no need to overcomplicate everything else. And like the Friday before, Jesse nodded his head when asked if he understood something and scrawled down any random word or number he actually picked up on.

It was all same-old-same-old, until Mr White decided to take a chair from another desk, and pull it across to Jesse's, so that he was sat opposite him, sharing the desk. The close proximity of his teacher was enough to send Jesse's head spinning, because this was the first time he'd been so close to Mr White when they had been so completely alone. His teacher, on the other hand, seemed calm as anything as he borrowed Jesse's pen to scribble down some quick questions on a slip of paper for Jesse to try out. Once he'd written them down and passed over the pen and paper, Mr White retired to his own desk and Jesse was both glad and disappointed. The chair that his teacher had occupied only seconds ago was still tucked under Jesse's desk, directly opposite to his own chair, and he used his feet to kick it away to allow for more space for his legs. The room was deadly quiet as he read over the questions which, surprisingly, didn't help his concentration, only made it worse somehow.

Jesse glanced up from his desk to look at Mr White. He was marking papers or something and his head was bowed ever so slightly. Thankful to be out of his immediate field of vision, Jesse flicked through his textbook in a panic, trying to find some useful information that could, in any way and to any extent, help him form some kind of answers to these questions. If only they supplied some sort of answer to the questions that he was really struggling with.

"Everything okay?" He must have zoned out completely or something because when he looked up from the textbook, Mr White was standing in front of him.

"Y-yeah. Everything is just fine." Jesse blinked, looking up at his teacher. His arms were resting on his desk, crossed over the sheet of paper that should have been filled in by now but was nearly completely blank.

"How did you find the questions?" Mr White was staring down at his desk now, trying to look around Jesse's elbows to check on his work, but had no such luck. He retired to taking a step back and waited for Jesse's response, which took a long while to come because Jesse was trying to remember how to speak.

He smiled awkwardly, lifted one hand up to run through his hair. "Oh, y'know, not great but not too bad either."

"Well, let me see. I can get them marked for you and we can go over anything you may have struggled with."

More than any other time before, Jesse didn't want Mr White to see his mistakes, or rather, the fact that he hadn't written anything down at all. He knew he wasn't the brightest student here, but he hated the constant reminder, and he wasn't sure he could take hearing it from Mr White today. After all, coming here had been the only thing to look forward to all day. He didn't want this moment turning to shit, too.

"Well," Jesse began, avoiding Mr White's gaze, "the thing is… I kinda thought of all the answers first and then I was gonna write them down, so I don't really-"

Mr White cut him off. "You haven't bothered to answer them, have you?"

Jesse shook his head quickly, trying to find a way to explain because he didn't want his teacher thinking he was lazy, or that he'd rather be absolutely anywhere else than here right now, because that wasn't true, not that he wanted to tell him that either, and oh fuck, why did he have to be so bad at chemistry? So bad at everything?

"It's not that I didn't bother!" Jesse cringed at the tone of urgency in his voice, and hoped to hell that Mr White didn't think it too unusual. "I just couldn't do it. I swear, I tried. I couldn't answer any of them." Defeated, he looked up at his teacher, a frown lined on his face.

"Why didn't you tell me sooner? I could've helped you."

Jesse shrugged. "I didn't want to disturb you while you were like, marking, or working."

With a sigh, the older man returned to the front of the classroom and picked up the blunt piece of chalk. Jesse tried with all his might to concentrate on the words coming from Mr White's mouth, to actually process their meaning, rather than focus on their sound, and by the time he was left to answer the questions again, he managed one or two fairly easily, and felt more positive as he stood to leave.

"You did well with those two questions." The praise from Mr White went straight to Jesse's cheeks, colouring his skin a light shade of red. "Remember to read over what we've done, so it'll stay fresh in your mind."

"Will do, Mr White." Jesse meant it, too, because he didn't want a repeat of what just happened. He really wanted to try for Mr White and since he had nothing to do over the weekend, he could read over his stuff, perhaps tell Mr White on Monday.

Mr White had started to clean the board and had his back to Jesse. Jesse was by the door, staring at the back of his teacher and gripping onto his bag as though it was the only thing keeping him upright. "Well, I guess I'll see you then," he called from the door.

"Have a nice weekend, Jesse."

Jesse grinned to himself, even though Mr White spoke with his back to him. That didn't matter. What mattered was that he was told to have a good weekend, and he would.

He didn't mind the traffic. He had nowhere to go, no time limit, and no deadline. He sat quite contentedly, fingers tapping against the steering wheel, as he looked straight ahead at the line of cars in front of him. Right here, just in this moment, he had no responsibilities but to keep perfectly still and stay perfectly patient. After a long day of teaching teenagers, he was more than happy to do just that.

Once he arrived home, Walter grabbed his things from the car and locked up behind him, carrying a pile of books in one hand, a bag slung over his shoulder, as he made his way to the front door.

He tried the handle – locked. Sighed. Struggled to free a hand to dig into his pockets for his key. Opened the door, walked inside and used his foot to kick the door shut.

Walt threw everything down onto the couch and wandered through the quiet house.

"Honey?" No response.

In the kitchen, there was a sticky-note stuck to the refrigerator: 'Out shopping with Marie. Will be back for dinner. x'

He was surprised that Walter Jr. wasn't at home, but soon remembered that he was going home with a friend for dinner, and would only get back later on.

It was a relief to have the place to himself, even if it would only be for an hour or two. His head had started to pound during the journey home and was thankful for the silence of the house. He only hoped that Marie wouldn't invite herself in for too long when she dropped Skyler off. That would definitely not help. He knew this for certain, from experience.

He eyed the pile of work he'd left on the couch from where he stood in the kitchen, finally deciding that he'd leave it there so he could get on with some marking and lesson planning once he'd had a shower. First, he needed tablets to help with the headache. He grabbed some from the cupboard and filled a glass with water from the tap, before swallowing the pills and downing the remainder of the water.

A shower was next. More than anything – well, aside from the pills – he wanted to wash away the day in the shower before he could settle and do anything else. As he undressed and approached the en-suite bathroom, Walt could only hope that there would be enough hot water to give him what he wanted. The issue with the boiler was just another thing on his mind, another addition to a very long list of everything he needed to do.

Glad that the water appeared to be running fine, Walt wasted no time in getting under it, and let out a long sigh as the warm mist hit his shoulders and the back of his neck. He ran a hand through his hair, making sure it was damp before foaming it up with shampoo. After washing, he spent some time just appreciating the water and the warmth of it over his body which had begun to ache everywhere. It wasn't so surprising that he was stiff all over; it was Friday, after all, and he'd endured another full week at school.

Just as he was reaching out to turn off the water, a cough took hold of him and shook his whole body. He felt it in his throat, like a razor, and coughed even more to get rid of it, until soon, he was coughing contagiously and thought it wouldn't end. The shower was still running and he had to lean against the cold tiles of the wall to maintain his balance, his head fogging over with a sudden dizziness. Walter closed his eyes and held in the cough that was fighting to escape. He held it there, and held it there, holding his breath, until the heaving of his chest settled and he opened his eyes again, finally opening his mouth to release a shaky breath. The palm of his hands were flat against the tiles and only after a couple of minutes, he dared move them and turned off the shower.

His legs were weak from the coughing fit and his breathing was still unsteady and broken. Slowly, Walter reached for a towel and wrapped it around his lower half, before trudging to his bedroom and sitting on the edge of the bed.

That was not the first coughing fit he'd had recently. In fact, it was becoming a thing that would often wake him during the night, or would call him to excuse himself from the classroom so he could get himself together in private.

An appointment with the doctor was mentally added to that long list of things to do.